


An Idol and His Fanboy

by amagiri



Category: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-23
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amagiri/pseuds/amagiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Bad Boys.  An investigation is launched regarding the series of murders all connected to Changmin. Meanwhile, there's still a hit on his head, and it's up to Yunho to protect him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Changmin closes his eyes as the makeup artist begins applying concealer to his face. He's got a music show appearance today, his first in about a year. His manager has been asking about his health all day since, surprisingly, he hasn't been eating much. He places a hand over his stomach, but it doesn't grumble at him. He's too nervous to have a normal appetite.

"You look stressed," the makeup artist tells him with a laugh. "Stop wrinkling your forehead so I can do your face properly."

"Oh...sorry," he apologizes quickly. With a sigh, he leans back against the chair and tries to relax.

He thinks back to last night and the conversation he had. It always starts out the same, a message to voicemail from an unknown number with the simple word, "Hey." The number changes frequently, likely because the caller stays on the move. Then it's up to Changmin to return the call, which he usually does, if only because he doesn't want the man to think he's lost interest. Changmin himself changes numbers every so often, trying to avoid too many unwanted calls, so he worries that it will become a challenge to find each other in the future.

Last night, he called back with the hotel land line.

"Hey," the voice greeted. 

Changmin laid back against the bed and sighed. "Hey."

"Good luck tomorrow."

He smiled. "Thanks. I'm nervous."

"I can help with that," the man murmured. Changmin's tried asking a couple of times for a name, but the closest he's gotten is, "Just call me 'Hyung.'" Sometimes it seems like nothing is concrete about him. The name, the location, the number. Hell, he's not even sure why he's using 'Hyung' instead of 'Aniki' since they only converse in Japanese anyway. If Changmin hadn't been in his grasp that one time, moaning and writhing, he might have passed off his memories of his savior as just a fanciful imagination and a coping mechanism. It's frustrating.

It's exciting.

"You're not in my room again, are you?" Changmin asked, a smirk on his face.

"Maybe I am." The voice is alluring, inviting. Changmin's eyes fluttered closed as he sucked in a breath. He knew where this was going. "Maybe I'm watching you, but you can't see me. So tell me: what are you doing?"

"Can't you tell?" Changmin shot back. The voice chuckled. "I'm on the bed unzipping my jeans. Pulling out my cock." He did as he said, then wrapped a hand around the base of his member, toes curling at the sensation.

"I bet you look good like that," the voice murmured. "Even better naked though."

Changmin grinned. "Is that a request?"

"Not at all, but it would make it easier to put my fingers in you." Changmin moaned, remembering their last meeting. "I'd curl them inside you, make you squirm underneath me." Changmin tightened his grip on his member and started stroking faster, holding in a gasp.

"Ah-ah," the voice on the line taunts. Changmin can imagine his hyung grinning cockily, waggling a finger at him. "I want to hear you."

"Bastard," Changmin grit out. "Let's see who can't shut up the next time we meet."

A laugh. "And what will you do?"

Changmin licked his lips. "Suck you off. Ride you hard."

"I'm holding you to that then." Changmin heard panting on the other end. Nice to know that he wasn't the only one affected.

The dirty talk subsided, and then all they could hear were each other's pants and gasps. Changmin pumped himself quickly, fingers occasionally reaching to brush over the densitive tip of his cock. When he felt himself getting close, he whispered, "Hyung." Fisting the hem of his shirt, he pushed it up, revealing tan skin and hard nipples.

"Changmin." His voice was breathy. They were both in the same condition. A few more seconds passed before Changmin tilted his head back and groaned, letting himself go.

"All done," the makeup artist chirps. Changmin's eyes fly open, and he suddenly remembers where he is. He clears his throat and smiles, crossing one leg over the other to hide the effects of his daydream.

The performance goes well. He sees a number of familiar faces in the crowd, many of them crying their eyes out. As soon as he gets off the stage, he breathes a sigh of relief. His dancers pat him on the back as they pass him in hall on the way back to their dressing rooms.

Changmin is feeling good, but then he sees his manager coming towards him with another person in tow, a stern look on both their faces.

"This man would like to talk to you," his manager tells him.

The man is a detective. "Have you heard about the recent murder of a high level executive from your Japanese label?" the man asks, to which Changmin nods. "Had you met him before?"

"No, he was never involved in the production of my music," Changmin replies. "What is this about?"

"Were you aware of any anti-Korean sentiments he may have expressed?" Changmin shakes his head, a frown on his face. Certainly, he's heard such things before, but staff members around him with those kinds of opinions are usually transferred out quietly.

The detective's grave expression never wavers. "What about the prior incidents with the Japanese nationals? Do you remember anything about that?"

Changmin's patience is wearing thin, but he knows that he has to stay professional. "I already gave statements when they happened. During the first incident, a man came out from under the bed and shot the other assailant before fleeing. The second time, I heard some noise in my yard, but when I went outside, there was just the man on the ground."

The detective nods, but Changmin gets the distinct feeling that the man is not surprised by any of this information. "Mr. Shim, we believe that all three of these victims have been killed by the same assailant." A chill runs down Changmin's spine. "We've examined the striations on the bullets pulled from all three victims, and they're all a match to each other."

"Are you asking if I killed them?"

"No. Although I admit the story about a guy popping out from under your bed is a bit...farfetched, the police never found the weapon and there was no gunshot residue on your hands. Also, I've already gotten an alibi from your manager for this recent murder."

"So why are you talking to me?" Changmin looks around. A few staff members are standing around, watching the two of them and whispering amongst themselves.

The detective ignores the small crowd that's formed. "We haven't ruled out the possibility that you are familiar with the assailant. To clear your name, we are asking that you allow us to monitor your future phone calls and internet activity. We would also like to go through your e-mail history."

Changmin nods dumbly. His e-mail is clear. There's hardly a chance they'll be able to pull out his hyung's past phone calls as important in a sea of eager fangirls' ones, but things could get risky from here on out, and that's what worries him.

But really, what other choice does he have?


	2. Chapter 2

"Any reason you called me out?" Yunho asks his informant. Usually it's Yunho who requests to meet, so today comes as quite a surprise. He slides his friend a beer and sits down.

"Yeah, it's about you and your trigger-happy fingers," the man hisses. "It's you, isn't it? Going around and killing all those people related to that Korean idol. You can't tell me your little stay in Korea had nothing to do with that murdered hitman. And now the guy who called the hit is dead too."

Yunho calmly takes a sip of his drink. "And if it were me?"

His informant leans closer. "You're an idiot." He slaps Yunho in the head. "That exec you killed has a powerful relative in the yakuza, and it probably won't be long before they connect his murder with that idol. You working for him or something?"

"No." Yunho glares. "He's clean."

The informant leans back, startled at the vehemence behind his denial. He takes a swig of his beer and gives Yunho a once over, gears turning in his head. At that moment, Yunho knows he's given away too much.

"I should slap you again, seriously," his informant threatens after a minute-long stare-down. "You're not supposed to get attached in this business."

"You think I don't know that?" Yunho shoots back. "I wasn't expecting this either." He doesn't exactly know what 'this' means when he says it either. A fling? A perverse fantasy that's gone on too long?

The informant waves him off. "Look, I don't need to know the details. Just know that you're putting him in danger. You better watch out for him or he's going to end up dead."

Yunho leaves the establishment feeling the guilt gnawing away at him. He kicks furiously at some trash bags sitting out in the alleyway, letting out his frustrations. What his friend had said is all true. He's put Changmin into the line of fire without meaning to. The victims have a bunch of loose connections that all join up at the idol singer. Meanwhile, there's nothing but an illegal gun to incriminate Yunho, and goods like that aren't easily tracked.

It's not as simple as giving himself up to the yakuza and getting a few shots to the chest either. He can't trust that Changmin won't be targeted afterwards simply out of spite. After all, this whole thing started completely unrelated to him.

He leans his head against the alley wall and sighs. What to do? 

\------

 

Back at his hotel room, Changmin clutches his cell phone tight and places it to his ear as the automated voice speaks. It starts running through his messages, most of them not important. A few of his friends have left their congratulations, some sounding a bit more sober than others, and even in his current predicament he finds his lips curling into a smile.

When the messages end, he breathes a sigh of relief.

He gets up off the bed and heads for closet. Tonight, the dancers have coaxed him into partying with them to celebrate his restart in activities. He has a feeling that they intend on making him completely wasted by the end of the night.

Changmin moves over to the closet and starts changing his clothes, his mind wandering as he does so. He thinks about the executive who was murdered and all the things the detective had told him earlier. All three victims were killed by the same gun, and it's likely that the person holding it the third time would be the same as twice before.

He doesn't like this feeling. Wondering if this man was killed for Changmin's sake. Was it really over some remarks about Korean entertainers? It makes him uneasy, makes him feel sick to his stomach.

Changmin runs a hand through his hair. And most unsettling of all, he doesn't know why he's so worried about a killer.

His dancers throw their arms over his shoulders and end up dragging him to a fancy nightclub. Apparently, the place is used to getting a lot of celebs, so it's not likely that he'll be bothered by requests for autographs. It's also not a place targeted at people of his sexual orientation, but hey, he needs to keep up appearances just in case.

"You brought me here?" he asks, pretending to sound taken aback. "I mean, don't you guys get tired of dancing for work?" They laugh and ruffle his hair.

An hour later and he's still more sober than maybe half of his dancers. He might be slim, but he's also decently tall. It gives him a bit of an advantage, or so he reasons. But even then, when he reaches to feel his face, it's a bit warmer than usual. His cheeks have probably turned pink as well.

He goes out to the floor and starts dancing, even through he considers himself absolutely terrible at it. But hey, there's a bit of liquid courage running through him and that's all he needs. Well that and a few friends around, teasing him at times, egging him on at others. The dancers drunkenly offer to teach him some b-boy moves sometime before they get separated from Changmin in a sea of people.

Changmin dances with a couple of girls, not interested in them that way but perfectly willing to have a good time with them. It's nice to be in a crowd and not have people hounding him for questions or pictures.

He feels a tap on his shoulder and figures that it's one of his dancers looking to challenge him with a few more drinks. A bit tipsy, he laughs to himself then turns around.

It's a familiar face, but not one he expected. Seeing his stern face, Changmin's smile drops as well.

"Hey," the man greets. It's been months since they've last seen each other in person. He nods his head towards the bathroom. "Meet me there in five minutes."

Changmin breaks away from his current dance partner and escapes to the restroom. Luckily, there's no line when he gets there, although he does hear a man retching in the far corner of the bathroom. Changmin walks past a row of urinals before he's pulled into the first stall.

First matter of business is a kiss. Frantic, lustful. The man pushes him up against the wall, toilet paper holder digging uncomfortably into his back, and proceeds to ravage Changmin's mouth with his tongue. Changmin's moan is stifled by the kiss, but once he gets over his shock, he starts to fight back. They push and shove each other around while their tongues are busy wrestling for dominance. Changmin is sure that the other men filing into the restroom know that something's up, and he even thinks that he hears a catcall at one point.

Their mouths pull apart, but their bodies stayed pressed together. Compared to Changmin, there's no alcohol on his hyung's breath. 

"Hey," Changmin says breathlessly. The man smiles. He places a kiss to Changmin's neck and hums against his skin.

"Having fun tonight?"

Changmin grins coyly at him. "Now I am."

"Glad I could make your night." They intertwine their fingers. "I'd hate to ruin it for you." 

Changmin frowns. Now is the second matter of business. He presses his lips up against the man's ear and whispers so that no one else can hear. "Did you really kill him?"

"Yes." The man backs up. "It's what I do." There's no sense in beating around the bush. This issue will come up time and time again if they keep going like this.

Changmin turns his gaze, but he doesn't pull away. Of course he's known this whole time, but sometimes the mind has a way of burying the dirty details as a matter of convenience. "Was it because of me?"

A moment of silence, and then, "There's a world out there you don't understand."

"That's a yes." Changmin's hands start to tremble under his grip.

The man pushes him up against the stall. "He was trying to have you killed," he hisses. "Those two hitmen were offered money by him to target you. Me too."

"But I don't get it," Changmin replies. "Did I do something?"

The man shakes his head. "It's business politics, and you're the scapegoat." The guy was an idiot, deciding to target an artist in his own label and causing trouble for his own company, but if enough money gets passed around the police will conclude that he had nothing to do with the attempts on Changmin's life. Meanwhile, the hit's turned personal, and that makes things uglier.

"You can't call," Changmin tells him. "The police are monitoring me." They're keeping it a secret for now, since just the mention of such a thing could reflect poorly in the public eye.

The man sighs. So they've already dragged him into the investigation. "I'm sorry. I messed up."

"So what do we do now?"

"There is no 'we.' I got you into this, and I will get you out. You just keeping singing for now."

Changmin shakes his head. "You can't expect me to do nothing," he protests.

"Don't be dumb. You don't know what kind of people you're dealing with," the man replies. "For now, I need you to trust me."

Changmin squeezes his hand. "Just...don't go getting yourself killed." 

A part of him wants to laugh. He's being stupid, siding with one hitman over another, over the police even. He's already done it twice before, and the hole only gets deeper. A part of him wants to cry. He's stuck in said hole and he's scared and he wants to get out, but at the same time, he doesn't want to leave alone.

The man steals another kiss from him. "I'll try." It's the best he can do.

They stay in the stall together, fingers entwined, until the restroom clears out. The alcohol makes the nightclub patrons go often, so it's a long but not unwelcome wait.


	3. Chapter 3

"How do you stop a rampaging bull?" Yunho asks, more to himself than his friend the informant next to him. They've gotten together to weigh Yunho's options. So far, it's not looking so good.

"If I knew that, I would make you pay for that information." The response elicits a small chuckle from Yunho. Then suddenly, his informant claps his hands together excitedly. "Oh, I know! Put a red bull in front of him."

Yunho raises an eyebrow. "The drink?"

"Nah, I meant a real bull painted red. You know how they have those guys with the red capes? It'd be a distraction, and then they can battle it out."

Yunho nods, takes a swig of his beer, and calmly informs, "I'm not paying you for that," to which his friend sighs.

"Okay fine. But maybe I can interest you in a little commission work?"

Come to think of it, he hasn't had a paid hit in months. There had been a couple before he had gone running off to Korea, but nothing since then. These days, he's found a bit of a distraction to keep him busy. He's already joined the fanclub and everything.

"I think I'm getting tired of the business," Yunho tells him. He thinks of meeting Changmin at the nightclub a few days ago, tracking him down specifically to talk. Changmin is foolish, accepting and forgiving everything about him so readily, and Yunho is selfish for wanting it. A guy like him should be in prison, not sharing kisses (and a bed, once) with an idol who's well-known across Asia.

"At least consider this one." Yunho nods absentmindedly, not really listening to the details. He looks down at his own hands and remembers Changmin's holding them tight despite his trembling ever so slightly. Afraid but stupidly trusting. Yunho's never been considered a savior in anyone's eyes until now, and he's not about to give that up yet.

\---

Another week passes. Changmin finds himself shuffled around from photoshoot to rehearsals and performances on an almost daily basis, all according to schedule. Management is still nervous about having him promote in Japan, so they've crammed all his appearances into a short time and are having him fly back to Korea as soon as possible. And while he does understand their concern, he's just so damn tired. Sitting in his room, he rubs at his eyes. It feels like the first break he's gotten all day.

There's a knock on the door. Changmin sighs. It's probably his manager, wanting to talk to him about something. They play basketball sometimes, when Changmin isn't as busy, but during promotion time the man is all business.

He opens the door, not even bothering to check the peephole, and blinks in confusion when it's not the person he expects. "Detective," he greets tentatively.

The man at the door nods his head. "Good evening."

"Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, I'd like you to come down to the police station with me. We found a man in possession of the gun tied to the three murders. I know it's been a year since your encounter with the assailant, but we were hoping you might be able to identify him if you saw him."

Changmin tries not to seem affected as he nods and agrees to go with the detective. Stay calm, he thinks to himself. Maybe it's not the right person. He changes phone numbers, so why not guns? 

And what if it is him? Should he try to deny it? He's not a good liar. During the last incident at his house, he was able to pass everything off as being shaken up by the ordeal, but he won't get an opportunity like that this time.

The detective tells him that he's already informed his manager of their leave, but as they get into the car, Changmin starts to regret not asking the man to come with him. Not that he could really tell his manager about his current situation, but having a familiar face would put him more at ease.

Changmin sits in the passenger seat and stays quiet as they drive through the city. He gazes out the window, eyes focused on nothing in particular. In his distracted state, he almost misses his phone ringing. He clumsily pulls it out of his pocket and very nearly drops it between the seat and the car door.

He briefly checks the screen before answering. It's his manager. "Hello?" Changmin's eyes flicker to the man in the driver's seat. "What do you mean?" he asks cautiously. The car rolls to a stop just as the light turns red. "Hold on. I'll call you back in a minute." He presses the button to end call and drops the phone into his lap.

"Who was that?" the detective asks.

Changmin straightens up in his seat. "My manager. He was wondering where I was."

"Oh, did I talk to the wrong person? Someone else on your staff maybe?"

A lie, Changmin's mind screams. The detective had talked to his manager that first day at the recording studio. He sucks in a breath. "Must be," he replies, trying to say it casually, but his voice comes out shaky. A silence settles over them.

The light is still red.

Everything happens in a blur. Changmin's hand darts to the door handle. It doesn't budge, so he reaches for the lock next. His fingers brush over it but then fly to the hand that's clamped over his mouth, holding a sweet-smelling cloth over his nose. He grips tight enough to break skin, but soon everything goes dark.

\---

Yunho sits in his apartment, a tiny place, even by Japanese housing standards. He rents on a month-to-month basis, just in case he decides he needs to pack up and leave quickly. He's learned to live light from experience. Lately though, he has a budding CD collection accumulating, a bit of excess he's treating himself to.

He turns on the tv and goes over to the shrieking pot of water on the stove. He ate dinner hours ago but is feeling hungry again, so instant noodles it is. With a sigh, he sits down on his futon and waits for his cup of noodles to finish cooking in its styrofoam packaging. While he waits, he starts flipping through the channels. He only gets the basic stations, so it narrows his choices down. He skips past one channel, quickly realizes that it was showing Changmin's face, and doubles back.

KOREAN IDOL SINGER GONE MISSING

His phone rings. An unknown number.


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as Yunho puts the phone to his ear, he barks, "Who is this?" He doesn't give out this number so readily, and he's on edge right now. The tv is still going, talking about how the idol's last known point of contact was a brief phone call with his manager.

"Good evening. You were recommended to me by your friend."

It's business-related. He doesn't have time for this. "Look, I'm sorry but-"

"He told me that I should mention that it's related to that Korean idol."

Yunho freezes. "Where is he?" he demands, coming off more desperate than he should.

"Listen to my proposal first," the person on the other end tells him, voice calm and nonchalant. "The yakuza have taken him under the orders of one particular man. The particular group that he and I are affiliated with has been having some...internal strife lately. I would like him out of the way so that I can advance my own position. I would do it myself, but," the man pauses to laugh, "I can't very well betray my own 'family.'"

"Name your terms."

"You kill this man, and the hit ends. I have no interest in manipulating the entertainment world. I'm more of a drug-smuggling type of guy myself." The voice chuckles again. "Anyway, I'll disclose the location of the idol as prior payment."

Yunho frowns. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Another laugh. He knows who's pulling the strings. "What other choice do you have?" Yunho clenches his fist.

\---

Changmin is slow to come to his senses, still feeling groggy and exhausted from earlier. The first thing he realizes is that his arms are raised above his head uncomfortably, tied at the wrists to something that feels like a thick metal pipe. Panicking, he struggles to get to his feet without the use of his hands. He doesn't know how long he's been out, but his arms feel numb.

A light in the center of the room is flicked on. Changmin grimaces at the sudden change. He blinks a few times, adjusting to the light, and soon comes to realize that there are four men standing at the opposite end of the room.

"Where am I?" Changmin asks. "Where's the detective?"

The men exchange looks. "We roughed him up a little," one says with a shrug. "Had to make it look like we kidnapped you. Cover up our moles in the police force, you know? He understands."

Changmin tugs at his restraints. They don't budge. "What are you going to do with me?" He glares at them.

"Relax, we're not gonna kill you." Somehow, he's not comforted in the slightest. "We don't even have guns, see?" The men spin around and pat themselves down, as though that's supposed to convince him.

"So then why am I here?" The men start to advance towards him. Changmin wills himself to stand still, to pretend that he's not intimidated. "You want money?"

Another grunt takes his turn to speak. "Well, we'll leave you alive, but that doesn't mean you'll be going back in the same condition." The men reach into their pockets and procure switchblades. Changmin's eyes go wide. 

They close in on him, surround him. He huddles closer to the pipe, his only possible shield. One of them reaches out and yanks him forward by the chin. Changmin grits his teeth at being manhandled, glaring at the man defiantly.

"What do you think, boys?" the man asks while squeezing Changmin's jaw. "You think the pretty boy will still have fans after he loses an eye? A few fingers, maybe?" They chuckle amongst themselves. Changmin decides against spitting right in the man's face.

He jerks his face away instead. "Hey, let's even the odds here," Changmin reasons with them. "At least untie me." Seeing their skeptical looks, he adds on, "What? You scared of a guy who dances in sequins and fur all day?"

There's a pause, then one of them chuckles. He punches Changmin in the stomach, causing the idol to double over in pain, but then takes his blade and cuts through the rope bindings. Changmin falls to his knees, one hand on his stomach and the other breaking his fall as he hacks and coughs on the ground. He's afraid he'll throw up right then and there.

The men are gracious enough to wait for Changmin to get to his feet. Obviously, they are not very impressed by what they see.

Changmin takes a deep breath. The sides of his lips quirk up into a smile, and then he gives the guy who touched him a hard right-handed jab in the face. The man falls back clutching his nose, blood running into his hands.

Guess those boxing lessons would come in handy after all.

The other three men descend on him quickly. He throws an uppercut to the man directly in front of him, and hearing the man's jaw crack when his knuckles connect gives him a primal sense of satisfaction. One of the other thugs grabs at his arm while swiping his blade at Changmin's face, narrowly missing. Changmin aims a punch to the guy's gut in retaliation, but another man restrains that arm too. They twist his arms back ways they can't go comfortably, making him wince.

Changmin attempts to jerk away, but they hold on tight. In a rush of questionable common sense, he headbutts one of the men. They both stumble, heads hazy from the impact, but it has the desired effect. Changmin shakes off his lightheadedness quickly and turns his body so that he's facing the other man holding his arm. He punches this guy in the face too, then jerks the man's arm forward so that he stumbles to the ground.

One of the other men catches him off guard and slash wildly at him. Changmin hops back, but the hand he uses to shield his face is cut. The pain doesn't register right away, but when he looks down, blood is already starting to pour down his palm and drip off his fingertips. He clenches his fist and tries not to think about it.

All the men are back on their feet now. Changmin brings his arms up and moves into an upright stance. He waits for them to move, figures that it'll be easier for him to keep an eye on all of them this way. One guy rushes forward, the rest of them tailing close behind. Changmin hooks the front man in the chin, offsetting his balance. While the one falls back, the other three circle around him. Thinking fast, Changmin throws his weight towards one of them, forcing him into the nearby wall. The man grunts and drops his knife, which Changmin quickly kicks away.

One of the remaining grabs him in a chokehold. Changmin struggles to pull away, but before he can one of the other men comes and swings his hand down, stabbing Changmin in the shoulder. The arm around his neck allots him just enough air to scream.

"Alive, remember?" he hears one of the men say. At that point, Changmin is shoved to the ground, blade still embedded in his body. He gasps and bites back the tears while on the ground. He's never felt pain like this before.

One of the men steps on his head and laughs. Changmin feels two others grab his arms and restrain them. "Time to lose those fingers."

The knob on the door at the corner of the room, the only way in or out, suddenly starts to rattle frantically. The men turn their heads to it, distracted.

"Changmin!" a voice on the other side cries. "Are you in here?!" The entire door shakes in its frame.

Not knowing what else to do, he shouts "Hyung" over and over until one of the men kicks him in the face, saying something about speaking Japanese in this country.

A giant crack resounds, and suddenly, the door knob simply falls off. The door swings open, and there's Changmin's mystery man, gun in hand. He takes one look at Changmin, busted and bleeding on the ground, and angrily declares, "You bastards. I'll fucking kill you all!" He orders the men to get away from Changmin. They comply readily, hands up and knives on the ground as they back away.

In the midst of this, Changmin feels dizzy, struggles to understands what's happening. There's a shot fired, but when he looks over at the men lined up along the wall, he realizes that it was only for intimidation. Changmin turns his head to find a foot in front of his vision, and when he looks up, his hyung is kneeling at his side, gun still pointed at the men but his gaze focused on Changmin.

"Are you alright?" he asks gently, a sudden contrast to his earlier rage.

Changmin nods. He reaches out, brushing his hand over the man's knee. "Don't." He pauses to cough up some blood. "Don't kill them."

He hears the man start to protest, but Changmin silences him with a shake of his head. Changmin slowly brings his legs under his body and manages to pull himself into a sitting position, face contorted in pain the whole time.

Changmin pants softly. He feels strange. He looks around, eyes unfocused. He reaches up and pats delicately at his shoulder, feeling the blood mixed with dirt from the floor running down.

"Hey." There's a hand on his uninjured shoulder, shaking him gently. It moves to feel his head. "Hey, stay with me. You're going into shock." Changmin only vaguely understands what he's being told. The hand moves to cup his cheek.

He passes out.


	5. Chapter 5

Changmin wakes to the sound of a steady beep. His eyes open, heavy as though he's been sleeping for a long time, and looking down, he sees his own body covered by a white blanket. There's an IV drip feeding into his arm and a bandage over his injured hand. He feels the oxygen mask over his face and wonders if he can take it off or if that will set off some kind of alarm. He decides against it.

Turning his head slowly, he sees his manager in a visitor's chair, fast asleep and head tilted uncomfortably with his mouth wide open.

The person he saw last is not here. He understands, he really does, but he still has to try not to feel disappointed.

Changmin waits in silence, not knowing what else to do, until his manager's head tilts a little too far forward and causes him to startle himself awake.

As it turns out, the cops had received an anonymous tip and followed it to where Changmin had been held. Along with him were four men tied to a metal pipe who started blathering all kinds of nonsense as soon as the police arrived. Their fingerprints were taken, and one of them matched the knife that had been used to stab Changmin. They would be tried in court.

And not a single one of them would remember what the mysterious vigilante who had tied them looked like.

"I'm guessing you don't remember either, huh?" his manager asks. Changmin shakes his head quickly. Maybe a bit too quickly because his manager looks at him with one eyebrow raised. There's an awkward pause between them before the man just shrugs it off. "You must have some damn crazy fans." Changmin chuckles nervously.

Later, the police come and take his statement. Changmin claims that he doesn't remember much due to feeling dizzy before losing consciousness, but he is able to name the four men as his assailants. He mentions the detective's involvement as well, but he's not sure how the case will go over. Police like to protect their own, after all, and his assailants had taken precautions to keep him from being found out.

When he's released from the hospital, he flies back to Korea immediately, all other appearances cancelled.

\---

 

"Hey," Yunho says into the phone.

On the other end, Changmin whispers back, "Hey."

"Let me in?" He waits outside the sliding door, hears feet start to run around inside the house. Changmin appears soon after, sliding the glass door open so hard that it almost falls off its track. His arm is in a sling, probably to restrict his shoulder movement.

They show enough restraint to wait for Yunho to close the blinds.

There's a certain fire that ignites between them whenever they meet. Maybe it started as far back as their first encounter, a tense silence and the threat of danger to act as kindling. But now the flames are more intense, warm and inviting at a distance but to touch means feeling an incredible heat dance along his skin, scorching wherever it contacts.

Changmin moans into their kiss before pulling away to gasp for air. Their bodies are at an awkward angle, trying to avoid crushing his arm between them. Still, neither of them hesitate to wrap their arms around each other and pull the other close.

They lower themselves to the floor. Yunho hovers over Changmin, mindful of his sling. They roll around on the floor, hips rutting together, until Changmin ends up on top, lewdly straddling Yunho. They stop to look at each other, clothes disheveled and hair a mess.

"Stay the night?" Changmin asks quietly. Yunho can deny him nothing.

Changmin leads him to the bed, his hand over Yunho's. They take their time getting undressed, preferring to let their hands wander instead. Tonight is slow, unhurried. Changmin rakes his fingers over Yunho's chest while the other man cups his ass and squeezes. He feels Yunho's fingers slide between the cheeks and rub his entrance. He gasps.

Yunho helps Changmin out of his clothes, but despite his efforts, he hears Changmin hiss softly. He runs his fingertips gently over the bandage on his shoulder and leans forward to kiss it softly.

"I was too late." He murmurs into the nape of Changmin's neck.

Changmin shakes his head. "Just in time actually."

Yunho sighs. "I wasn't able to protect you." He hadn't been watching carefully enough.

Changmin hushes him, placing a finger over his lips. "In the morning," he requests.

With Changmin's shoulder injured, Yunho insists that he doesn't strain himself. Changmin lays down on his side, weight on his good shoulder, and Yunho does the same so that they face each other. Their hands roam, over chests, over arms, over every bit of skin before coming to rest on each other's cocks. There's no more talking as they stroke each other, and room becomes quiet save for the soft pants they breathe between them.

In the morning, it's Yunho who wakes first. Changmin is on his back, still asleep, but it seems that he's thrown his arm out of its sling sometime during the night. Yunho looks down at him reverently, placing a gentle kiss to his temple. It feels like one of picturesque mornings where he should make breakfast for the two of them...except that he doesn't know how to cook. He settles for covering them with the comforter, which got tossed and twisted while they slept, and coaxing a limp Changmin into his arms.

Changmin wakes soon after. They shower together, Yunho's back against Changmin's chest as Changmin lathers him up before they switch so that he can do the same. Yunho changes Changmin's bandages, getting a glimpse at the stitches they had sealed up the wounds with.

Yunho wraps his arms around Changmin and pulls him close, breathing in the smell of the shampoo they'd just used. He looks into the bathroom mirror and watches his hands roam over Changmin's back, feels the man shudder when he runs a finger teasingly down his spine.

"What are you going to do now?" Changmin asks.

Yunho pulls back in their embrace, but Changmin is quick to catch his wrist, as though scared that he'll leave.

"I'm dangerous, you know," Yunho tells him. There's a change in the atmosphere, in the way he looks at Changmin. The grip on his wrist tightens ever-so-slightly. The look in Changmin's wide eyes reminds him of their first meeting. "I kill. It's my job. It's not something I have to stop and think about."

Changmin turns his gaze, brows furrowed. "I know." Yunho leans in, intimidates him. The bathroom counter digs into Changmin's lower back.

"I would have killed those men if you hadn't stopped me." No regets either, especially considering what they'd done. 

"I know," Changmin repeats.

"And you can live with that?"

Changmin hesitates. "I don't know."

Yunho's expected as much. "I let you go the first day, and I've never figured out why." He points his finger at Changmin's head, hand in the shape of a gun. His eyes narrow as he tries to remember that day and the very moment he changed his mind.

"You could do it now," Changmin tells him. His gaze is on Yunho, ignoring the fake gun barrel pressing on his forehead. "My manager won't come around until lunch." 

Yunho's lips curve into a bitter smile. "I can't now." He pushes slowly with his finger and Changmin gives willingly, bending backwards until he's sprawled out on the bathroom counter, head leaning against the mirror and body still wet and nude from the shower. It makes for an erotic picture.

"I love you," he confesses. Yunho leans forward, covering Changmin's body with his own. Their arms move to wrap around each like instinct as their foreheads touch, lips not quite meeting. Their breaths mingle between them, heating the already charged air. "Tell me what to do next." He still has the gun tied to the three (and now four) murders. He could be tried for those, but his other hits will likely become cold cases. 

Changmin looks up at him, eyes wide when he comes to understand what Yunho means when he sees the other man's grim expression. "Look, I'm not..." he starts, but the words die in his throat. He tries again. "I don't think I should decide that."

Yunho shakes his head. "It has to be you," he replies, so blunt that it catches Changmin off guard. "I almost got you killed because I was careless. This business doesn't look kindly on attachments." Yunho clenches his fist. He may have ended the hit, but in the process he's given away that he has a connection with Changmin, a piece of information that's valuable for blackmail, for revenge. Yunho can only hope that the number of unsuccessful attempts on Changmin's life will be a deterrent from here on out.

"I need your forgiveness," Yunho tells him. "And whatever else you're willing to give."

Changmin holds him close. "Stay with me."

Yunho kisses him.

\---

 

The threats been resolved, but much to the woe of his fans in Japan, it's been decided that Changmin will promote elsewhere for at least a year and a half. Changmin isn't particularly pleased with the idea, but he's too busy convincing the company not to fire his manager (who is a great guy but is just a little clueless sometimes) for carelessness to protest the decision.

Changmin's hand and shoulder scar over, but the media decides that it's nothing that makeup and photo alteration can't fix. All things considered, he thinks that he should be more grateful for still having his fingers.

Yunho's opted for staying in Korea for awhile. He wants to start over, and there's no point in being in Japan if Changmin won't be there. His informant friend had provided him with some forged documents and sniffled dramatically when they parted.

"My best customer," the man had declared before buying him a farewell beer.

He forgot, however, that his Korean is absolute shit, something that Changmin teases him about mercilessly. Staying by himself months earlier was one thing, but living here is another. Between the language barrier and having no references or credentials, it makes getting a job difficult. One day, he gets a bunch of grade-school level language books from Changmin, all packed and shipped in a box. He begrudgingly reads them every night.

"I'll pay for your rent in the meantime," Changmin tells him over the phone. He says it slowly and in Korean. "I don't mind being your sugar daddy." He snickers, sounding a bit too giddy at the idea.

"I have savings," Yunho grumbles back in Japanese.

Today, Yunho is standing in line.

I'm surrounded by teenaged girls, Yunho thinks to himself, CD in hand. Luckily, having no job or other obligations let him line up early. Unfortunately, the fangirls blew off school to do the same.

After a long wait, Yunho finally makes it to the front.

"Oh, a male fan," Changmin remarks to his manager who is standing close by. "That makes five today."

Changmin turns back to face Yunho. "Sorry, it's kind of a rarity." He takes the CD from Yunho's hands.

"So what's your name?" he asks, although he already knows the answer. Yunho's given up on the mysterious hyung thing months ago. For the better too, because he's found that he likes hearing his name spoken breathlessly as they roll around in bed.

"It's Yunho." Changmin draws a big heart next to his autograph.


End file.
